This project was generously supported by Behanbox.

This past May saw fuel prices in India increase by 9.54%. For weeks, petrol prices in various states stayed above Rs 100 straining on people already struggling with the effects of the pandemic and consequent lockdowns. Even though the month of September saw a marginal fall in the costs, state-run firms say considerable relief is nowhere in sight.

While the problems brought by these price spikes are being debated, the unique experiences of women in dealing with inflation have yet to become the focus of such conversations. Working-class women, in particular, face specific challenges in times of financial crisis. We spoke to low-income women from varying social contexts across different Indian cities about how inflation in fuel prices have changed their lives.

Noida

Najma (name changed) lives in a rented one-bedroom flat with her husband and three sons. She is the sole earner of the family. Cooking for multiple houses in Noida earns her around Rs 15,000 a month. Najma says that one LPG cylinder – the price of which has shot up to Rs 1000 – only meets the family’s needs for 20-25 days. To save gas, she uses it only once a day and tries to make that count for the entire day. She can’t cook fuel-intensive meals frequently either so most meals are just dal and roti.

Research conducted by Oxfam has shown that women across the globe consistently skip meals during times of financial distress in order to ensure adequate food for the rest of their families. Indian women too eat last and least, exacerbating existing levels of poor nutrition that leads to anemia.

Meena (name changed) too works as a domestic help in Noida. She had to buy a cylinder off the black market at Rs 1,050 for her cooking needs. She has to work in four houses, washing utensils in three and sweeping and swabbing in 1 to earn Rs 10000 a month. Her husband who works as a gardener brings home around Rs 8000. But their rent alone is Rs 3,500, with the electricity bill adding approximately Rs 800. While her youngest children are provided meals at their government school, the rest of the family typically cooks and consumes only one fresh meal a day.

“Majboori mein padd gaye hain (we have fallen in distress),” says Meena.

Rekha bought her cylinder on May 8th and paid Rs 1140 for it. She says that now she has to give even more thought to what she cooks as she has to conserve the gas and ensure it runs for as long as possible. She shops for fewer groceries. Her health problems also mean expenditure on medication is high. Though prices are up, salaries have stagnated, she pointed out.

Purchasing a cylinder, either gasoline or kerosene, from the unregulated illicit market has its own set of dangers. With little regulatory oversight, these are far more likely to burst or cause serious harm to consumers. But sky-high prices of Rs 2,253 coupled with a long bureaucratic process force women, who are less likely to have official documentation, to depend on the informal market.

Bengaluru

Jayamma lives in a family of four and works as a cook for 1 house. Her husband is a carpenter. While her son works for a call centre, her daughter is a sales worker at a small jewelry shop. Together, the four of them rake in around Rs 15,000 every month. Unlike the women we spoke to in Noida and Delhi, her house had four sources of income. Still, Jayamma says fuel price hikes have pushed them to limit their resources. They buy less cooking oil (which she remarked has also gotten costlier), sparser groceries. Her Rs 1,140 cylinder (which was Rs 650 until a year ago) from a regulated Agency runs for 25 days. She refills it with 1 liter gas from the illicit market for the remaining 5-6 days. This extra refill before the next month’s delivery comes at a price, both monetary and of time. It also poses a serious danger to people’s safety. Earlier this year, Pune saw a major fire erupt after a series of blasts at illegal refilling sites.

Josephine works as a domestic worker echoed this effect on purchasing patterns. She buys her cylinder from the Indian Gas Agency at a price of Rs 1050. Seven months ago she used to pay around Rs 850. Her husband who works as an auto driver has been severely impacted by the CNG hikes. Along with regular expenses, the household has to pay off his auto-rickshaw’s loan which culminates in January 2023. Where he earlier used to earn around Rs 600 to 800 a day, he now can manage only Rs 500 per day after refueling. With two college-going daughters, she said they now stick solely to necessities.

India saw one of its worst public health crises in the form of COVID-19. The pandemic showed how underfunded and mismanaged the healthcare system is when it comes to treating our most vulnerable populations. Both Jayamma and Josephine said they are unable to accumulate any savings. What they earn in a month, they have to spend in a month. Imagine, then, what resources they would have were there a health-related or any other kind of emergency? In times of urgent need, women often borrow from people they know, take advances from employers, or are forced to engage in informal loans from unregulated moneylenders. In all three cases, they are subject to emotional and financial stress as yet another expense (repayment) has to now be met.

But the domestic sphere, despite being critical to their decision-making, is not the only one where women have had to negotiate with growing inflation.

Vadodara

Poonam is a 46-year-old school van driver in Vadodara. Since the pandemic, she has been struggling to make ends meet for her daughter and herself despite working two jobs, the other as a car tutor for women. Even though schools have reopened, she has to deal with a much lower salary than before. Her van uses CNG and petrol. She used to pay 500 rupees a week for CNG prior to the pandemic. Now, the same costs her almost 750 rupees. She also used to refill petrol at every 15-day mark for around 500 rupees. But since the hikes, she has had to do these runs more frequently as she can only afford minimal refills. Poonam is left with only 10 customers now as she cannot fill enough petrol to make more routes. She had to increase her fees to 650 rupees per child. The economic cost is not the only price she pays. Longer queues for CNG as more people avoid petrol leave her no comfort under Gujarat’s scorching sun. 

“When petrol prices were low, I could even switch on the AC in the car for a bit to get some relief, but now just listening to prices is enough to sweat even more,” said Poonam.

Sonalben is above 70 years of age and has been running a tea stall in the city for 50 years. A widow, her kids passed away during their childhood and she has nobody to tend to her. Despite having a BPL card, she pays the unsubsidized rate of 906 rupees for the CNG cylinder. She can’t access subsidized food grains either because her fingerprints are not valid due to worn-out skin. She used to charge 7 rupees per cup of tea, which has been raised to 10 rupees out of compulsion.

“Some people even pay 5-6 rupees and I take it because I have to keep the stall running somehow,” said Sonalben.

Service professionals in Vadodara like Payal are also strained. Payal works for Urban Company as a salon specialist and has been forced to shell out more and more money from her pocket to keep up with fuel costs.

“I thought of buying an electric scooter, but I bought my current scooter just a year ago,”

E-commerce and e-service companies like Urban Company have done little to support employees during this crisis. Recently, a grocery platform slashed fuel allowance for delivery workers entirely. Women like Payal depend on volume for their income. The more clients they attend to in a day, the higher their income. Now they have had to cut down on how many visits they can make on their personal vehicles, affecting their daily wage.

Research conducted in Malaysian cities showed how young women from low-income backgrounds reduced their vehicle usage when petrol prices fluctuated. In a context with less amenable public transport for women, this would mean reduced mobility for young urban women in general. Gig workers, who frequently travel between customers’ and their own residences, like Payal have taken a large hit due to the seemingly permanent high rates of fuel. Urban Company provides no fuel allowance.

All the women we spoke to mentioned how scarcity has pervaded their lives since before the fuel hikes. How they were always forced to make tough decisions about their work and/or household. But now, they feel even more helpless in the face of a price they can only control so much.

Seema questioned how much should they be expected to winnow their families’ diets, “Bachhon ko khilana padega na?” (We have to feed our children, don’t we?)

‘Sweet-spot Economy’

Their children deserve to eat; and eat well. Women like Najma and Seema do too. Food insecurity can have serious consequences on their already tenuous health conditions. Although there have recently been minor reductions in fuel costs, households continue to find it difficult to recuperate. A recent report by Down To Earth and the Centre for Science and Environment found that 71% of Indians cannot afford a nutritious meal. Fuel prices would likely make this dire situation worse for households. According to the United Nation’s World Food Programme, this could potentially also increase domestic violence considering women are held accountable for loss of access to food.

The question then is that in this ‘sweet-spot economy’ as Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman put it, who gets the sweet spot? Women like Poonam, Sonalben, and Payal have seen reduced incomes directly due to the fuel price hikes. Do state governments and the oil and gas industry along with the Centre bear responsibility for the precarious situation they have put women in?

It is time to ask the question whether society believes working-class women should live a full life. One where they don’t have to decide between buying medicine or vegetables, or choose between feeding their child or themselves.

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Artist featured: Santhal Maidens, Zainul Abedin, Oil on canvas, 1950, Photo Courtesy: Jalaluddin Ahmed, Art in Pakistan (Third Edition 1964) [Found on The Karachi Collective]